A Steady Drip, Drip

"Our inconsistency is our consistency/our insincerity is our sincerity," sings at one point on . It's a sentiment that could pass for ' manifesto: Over the years, fans have come to expect dizzyingly witty lyrics and dazzling, ever-changing sonics from the Mael brothers. Their 24th album offers plenty of both, as well as a more pointed outlook and a slightly more down-to-earth sound than the duo's last outing, 2017's . and give these songs about misfits, outliers, and disasters a driving urgency, whether on "Sainthood Is Not in Your Future"'s sprightly tale of betrayal or the darkly cosmic "Nothing Travels Faster Than the Speed of Light," which provides a great showcase for 's formidable keyboard skills. Similarly, stomping synth pop hits home the message of "iPhone," where the Maels imagine technology aided lack of communication stretching back to the Garden of Eve and sum up their frustration on the earworm chorus "put your fucking iPhone down and listen to me!" Fortunately, impending doom brings out the best in ' music, and 's most trenchant songs are among its brightest highlights. On "I'm Toast," the grinding synths and guitars build as their fortunes -- and those of "Empty nesters/Bad investors/Lovers who've been wronged" -- sink lower and lower. With its grand sound and deprecating words, "Self-Effacing" is an instant-classic song that revives the chugging new wave the Maels reprised most recently on their collaboration , while "Left Out in the Cold"'s deep freeze reaffirms that synth pop will always be one of their greatest strengths. Elsewhere, balance 's sketches of failure and disappointment with just the right amount of giddy escapism; it's easy to imagine an intricately choreographed musical number involving Toros and John Deeres set to "Lawnmower"'s loopy suburban fantasia. "Stravinsky's Only Hit," which boasts a quintessentially song title along with its bombastic symphonic pop, is another triumph of the Maels' wit and craft. The duo also leave a little hope in the Pandora's box of , as well as some genuine emotion. On the poignant ecological plea "Please Don't Fuck Up My World," they manage to use a children's choir to non-cloying effect, and on "All That," they sing the praises of a long-running relationship's ups and downs with the sincerity only an act with as many decades behind them as they have could muster. Here and throughout , riff on their history deftly, and the results are both timely and quintessentially . ~ Heather Phares